the thaw. [arya stark]

xiv. prophecy please

CHAPTER FOURTEEN:

PROPHECY PLEASE
｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

...LIKE AN UNSUSPECTING PROPHECY, Valeria's fateful words were soon thrust into reality as House Targaryen, in all its spirited might, rode for Winterfell — Daenerys Targaryen at its fiery helm, and Jon Snow (whose rule of the North had drawn to a bitter close) riding alongside her, loyalty incarnate.

Two Dragons swooped down from the heavens — screeching reminders that whilst Houses Stark and Targaryen were now the closest of allies on paper, there was no question as to which amongst them truly held the upper hand. Dragons, as a wise man once said, were a force that man should never have trifled with. But alas, Targaryens weren't men — rather Gods — and this was an age that required nothing less.

Excitement coursed through the Queen's veins as she drew ever—closer to the keep, for, despite the fact she wasn't sure what kind of welcome she'd receive there — her family was to be found within Winterfell's ragstone walls, and to Daenerys, that was all that mattered. Valeria, and her future, was all that mattered.

And, sure as daybreak, the Princess of Dragonstone waited for her, her pounding heart animated by an equal, if not superlative degree of excitement as she so anxiously anticipated the arrival of her beloved sister.

She was stood beside Arya, whom had initially met Valeria's request to be in attendance with a seemingly irreversible degree of refusal, but had ultimately crumbled at her unrelenting insistence — learning that, whether she liked it or not, her ability to say no to the Princess had been snatched from her forevermore.

They were situated almost unsafely close to each other — practically pressing into one another in a desperate attempt to hide their entangled hands from Sansa, whose gray stare was trained, dangerously, upon them — brows raised in suspicion.

But her attention was fleeting, peeled away from the pair as the two, monstrous Dragons soared above them, and all assembled looked up in horror, a small smile crossing Valeria's lips not only at their fear, but also at another, less obvious source of intrigue that had so thoroughly captured her attention. A flurry of horses approached, the soft yet o' so promising sound sound reinvigorating the now tempestuous beating of her heart, then ultimately, stopping it as the sound drew to a sudden halt, and the whole yard fell silent.